[His brow pinched faintly at the way Vash seemed to pull himself back, keeping some sort of emotional distance, but his head felt too much like his brain had been scooped clean out of his head to be able to really process it. Instead, he reached up to pat the hand gently where it rested on his shoulder, and then nodded weakly at the reply.]
Yeah. Yeah. It's prob'ly best you get 'im, anyway. I...gotta carry the Punisher, and...I think he'll be more comfortable around you right now, anyway. [He shifted, letting Vash's hand down gently to rest in his lap as he stood, and he didn't immediately answer the part about the drinking as he looked around, in the direction he was sure the inn had always been, then back toward the saloon doors where he knew the Punisher had been left. There was a small ache on his lip that began to blur back into his senses, and for a moment, he had almost forgotten what it was before he lifted his hand, pressed it against his mouth, and pulled his fingers back to look at the blood.
Ah. Yeah. Right. Fair enough. That was going to take a bit to heal. He'd need to at least clean it up a bit once they got settled, but he'd...he'd definitely had worse.
He should probably answer that suggestion about food, before Vash started worrying, more than he always did alread.]
Yeah. Sure thing. [Not a chance, but he'd lied enough to Vash over the years that it was like second nature, even if every one of the lies accumulated in the back of his mind like a pebble; they'd been nothing, at first. Lying was just what he did. It was how he survived. But the more that he'd done it, the heavier they had had gotten, until now, there were so many pebbles that one more onto the pile barely weighed anything compared to the mountain of all the rest.] You left your bag in there, too, right? I can grab it. Lemme get those while you...get situated. Or...or I can come back out an' help you pick 'im up in a minute, if that'd be easier. Whatever. Hold on.
[He was walking before he could have even answered, marching into the saloon and slinging the cross over his shoulder, just like old times, then grabbing Vash's duffel bag with his free hand and walking back out to see if he needed help.]
Should be just a couple streets over, I think. Least it was, last time I was in town. I'm sure they'll have some vacancies.
[Hah. It was a joke, see? He was joking. It was fine.]
no subject
Yeah. Yeah. It's prob'ly best you get 'im, anyway. I...gotta carry the Punisher, and...I think he'll be more comfortable around you right now, anyway. [He shifted, letting Vash's hand down gently to rest in his lap as he stood, and he didn't immediately answer the part about the drinking as he looked around, in the direction he was sure the inn had always been, then back toward the saloon doors where he knew the Punisher had been left. There was a small ache on his lip that began to blur back into his senses, and for a moment, he had almost forgotten what it was before he lifted his hand, pressed it against his mouth, and pulled his fingers back to look at the blood.
Ah. Yeah. Right. Fair enough. That was going to take a bit to heal. He'd need to at least clean it up a bit once they got settled, but he'd...he'd definitely had worse.
He should probably answer that suggestion about food, before Vash started worrying, more than he always did alread.]
Yeah. Sure thing. [Not a chance, but he'd lied enough to Vash over the years that it was like second nature, even if every one of the lies accumulated in the back of his mind like a pebble; they'd been nothing, at first. Lying was just what he did. It was how he survived. But the more that he'd done it, the heavier they had had gotten, until now, there were so many pebbles that one more onto the pile barely weighed anything compared to the mountain of all the rest.] You left your bag in there, too, right? I can grab it. Lemme get those while you...get situated. Or...or I can come back out an' help you pick 'im up in a minute, if that'd be easier. Whatever. Hold on.
[He was walking before he could have even answered, marching into the saloon and slinging the cross over his shoulder, just like old times, then grabbing Vash's duffel bag with his free hand and walking back out to see if he needed help.]
Should be just a couple streets over, I think. Least it was, last time I was in town. I'm sure they'll have some vacancies.
[Hah. It was a joke, see? He was joking. It was fine.]